Nurmengard Chains
by cateliot
Summary: It was 1944 when Albus Dumbledore and several teams of Aurors liberated Grindelwald's prison during the Great War. They broke free the dozens of captives and lost souls held there only to find a surprise chained in the most heavily guarded tower cell. Her name was Minerva McGonagall and she was the reason Albus Dumbledore came. Complete.
1. Mission

**Disclaimer and Copyright**: This work of fiction is based on characters and settings created by J. K. Rowling. All recognizable characters, settings, and plot elements are copyright © Ms. Rowling and her assignees. The author believes this work falls within the scope of the Fair Use Doctrine as a transformative work. For more information, see the Organization for Transformative Works.

All original characters, settings, and plot elements are copyright © Cate Eliot. This work of fiction is available for use under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported (CC-BY-NC-SA 3.0) license.

**Summary:** _It was 1944 when Albus Dumbledore and several teams of Aurors liberated Grindelwald's prison during the Great War. They broke free the dozens of captives and lost souls held there only to find a surprise chained in the most heavily guarded tower cell. Her name was Minerva McGonagall and she was the reason Albus Dumbledore came._

**Author's Note:** I've fallen in love with writing about Minerva McGonagall. She's by far the most beautifully mysterious and amazing complex character I've ever read about. J.K. Rowling gave us just enough information to scratch the surface of her character and I love to explore her. This novel is NOT relate to my other series on Minerva "The Eyes of the Tempest" ("Head Girl") or my other stand-alone one shots. I took a lot of liberties with the non-cannon work and really enjoyed stretching my wings with this time period. I really appreciate all feedback, good or bad. Please review.

So without further ado, dim the lights, cue the music, and enjoy the story…

_**Chapter One **_

Junior Auror Melanie Ramirez swallowed thickly as she watched the girl interact with her Professor. The sun was setting just outside of the makeshift camp. Inside one of the smaller tents, the dark hair girl sat up in the army bed with Albus Dumbledore.

He was speaking softly to her, his words seemed to calm her. His larger and calloused hand was wrapped around her smaller slender one with their fingers intertwined.

She was ghostly pale and looked unwell. Ramirez was surprised the healer had let Dumbledore inside after the shape the girl was in after they eradicated the prison. She was among the most heavily wounded and had almost been lost twice in surgery.

Outside the tent, sounds of soldier's voices and running feet echoed around them. The tent flap swung open to reveal a ragged looking man with long and messy bronze hair. He was in his mid-forties and wore black robes, smeared with blood and dust from the recent battle.

"Junior Auror Ramirez, may I speak to you outside, please?"

She immediately rose from her stool to follow him outside. "The rest of Nurmengard has evacuated and those needing lifesaving medical attention are being treated as we speak. How is Miss McGonagall?"

"She's not well, sir. She's remained conscious since the healer injected a Muggle drug called adrenaline into her system, but he says it will be touch and go for a few days before she stabilizes. Professor Dumbledore is with her now."

The man growled under his breath and rubbed his face agitatedly. She watched him with wide eyes. Alastor Moody, the legendary Auror Leader, was not known for showing his emotions other than his anger at Dark Wizards or annoyance at junior Aurors.

"Look Ramirez, I have an assignment for you. You cannot being to fathom how important this is to win the war against the Blackcoats and Grindelwald."

"Okay, sir."

"I need you to stay here with McGonagall. Sources inside the say that she was one of the most highly guarded prisoners in the entire place which means she was valuable. She could have the answers we need to bring down Grindelwald. Things she may have seen or may have heard could be crucial to our success."

Ramirez glanced back at the heavy duty levitating tarp that housed the girl.

"She's only fifteen sir. Do you think she could really hold the key to bringing them down?" She ran a hand through the little strands of blonde hair that had fallen out of her pony tail since the morning she had pulled it up.

Moody gave her a maul of a grin. "Do you know who she is?" he growled, nodding towards the tent. Ramirez shook her head automatically; something she learned early on when joining the Aurors.

"She's Dumbledore's prodigy. The thing can do doctorate level magic with a bat of her pretty little eyelashes. She the greatest Transfiguration genius since Dumbledore himself and he claims she's much more advanced than he was at her age, not to mention she's Muggleborn. I need you to befriend her, Auror, I need to gain her trust, make her open up to you and tell you about her captivity."

"But, sir—"

"Cut the 'sir' crap, Ramirez," he cut her off, folding his arms over his chest. He smeared some of the still half wet blood on his jacket, but the man didn't seem to notice. "If you can pull this off, then you will be moved up the ranks so quickly the other Junior Aurors will be reporting to you."

The promise of success made Melanie swallowed quickly and her heart beat a little faster. "I understand, but what about Dumbledore? Wouldn't he be better suited to talk to her?"

Moody frowned and ran a hand over the fresh cut on his cheek that would scar to add another white line to his collection all over his body.

"Albus cares for her. How deeply, romantically, or emotionally, I don't know, but we don't have time to be gentle with her. She's a big girl, she'll survive it. We need that information. The only question is, are you going to get it for me?"

"I—of course, sir, _er_ Moody."

He nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"Come on there, I'll introduce you lot," he said, moving back towards the tent. He opened the door and both Dumbledore and the girl immediately looked up to him. Dumbledore's hand flashed towards his wand, but he relaxed when he saw Moody.

"Albus, this is Melanie Ramirez. She's going to keep an eye on Miss McGonagall, if that's all right, of course," he said courteously, nodding towards the girl sitting next to Albus.

Ramirez gave both the esteemed professor and McGonagall a nervous smile which Dumbledore only nodded to. Her eyes found the girl who seemed so small and childlike covered in thick blankets and sitting next to the tall Dumbledore.

Her deep green eyes looked her over with clear intelligence and interest.

"I think that will be quite all right, Alastor, right Minerva?" he questioned lightly, turning back towards the girl. Only after a moment did Minerva turn to look back at Dumbledore's face. She inclined her head ever so slightly and squeezed his hand once.

The Auror inwardly sighed. This was going to be harder than she thought.

_ *The Great War 1944*_

Melanie stood with her fellow Aurors as Alastor Moody and Auror Deputy Gawain Robards stood in front of them silently. Melanie's teammates stood with her.

Robards looked like a wet lion with wild brown hair and eerie gray eyes. He wore a ripped uniform and resembled Moody with his body wracked full of scars.

The whispering in the crowd ceased when he raised his hand. "Today we storm Nurmengard," Robards said gruffly. "Today, we took the first step in taking back out country from the hands of the Dark Lord, Grindelwald."

The crowd erupted in cheers.

Melanie smiled broadly as the euphoria rose around her. Robards waited until they had quieted down before speaking again. "Some of you fought alongside us, others stayed here and held down the fort. When we eradicated the prison, Grindelwald wasn't present. Nor was his second in command, Macnair. We captured a handful of Blackcoats and our most advanced interrogators at working on them as we speak. The rest of their ranks are still out there. The best thing to do now is rest, take care of the survivors. They need our help now."

He turned his back and marched towards the large tent parked right in front of the prison gates. Moody folded his arms in front of his chest, sizing up the crowd.

"You heard Robards. We camp here. It may be some time before we pack out trash and leave. Our priority now is the survivors and what's left in the prison. You know your assignments. Don't fail us. Don't fail your people. Don't fail magic." Melanie felt his eyes linger on her form from the crowd.

With that followed Robards into the night.

"Crazy right? To think that with another few attacks like these the war could be over?" Melanie wordlessly nodded to her teammate and friend from Hogwarts, Jack Hessle, as she followed him back towards their tent.

Her other teammates chattered away about how they wished they had been in the battle rather than scouting for Blackcoats on the perimeter, Melanie caught sight of Dumbledore's form still sitting with McGonagall's small frame in the tent off to the side.

The battle may be over she realized, but the war was still very much alive.


	2. Mute

_**Chapter Two**_

Melanie finished braiding her blonde hair as she sat across the tent from McGonagall. The girl had been sick three days earlier and had taken another week to recovery from more internal bleeding. However as the new week dawned, the girl seemed to be more awake and responsive.

She however still refused to speak.

"You're obviously not from London," Melanie continued, watching her. Minerva watched her back with dark green eyes, shining with intelligence. "Probably not from anywhere in England actually. I'm from London and you don't look you're a city girl to me. Where are you from?"

If the girl was going to answer, she was cut off by the tent flap opening, shedding sunlight inside, and revealing Dumbledore, Moody, and another man.

"Good afternoon, Miss McGonagall. I'm Healer Maguire. I was hoping to take a look at you if that's all right?" Minerva's eyes flickered over to Dumbledore before nodding once.

His exam took only a few minutes as she read the symbols and letters that glowed as he cast a diagnostic spell over her. She held perfectly still as he worked. The only movement was the slight up and down of her chest as she breathed.

The surgeon had propped her up against the side of the tent in an army bed. The sheets around her body were an ugly green and she wore a man's tee shirt that was much too big for her little body. It was clear she was ill and underweight from starvation. Her cheeks were gaunt and pale, her eyes had deep circles under them from sleep loss and sickness.

The only thing that didn't fit was her eyes that seemed alight in the dim room.

"Your magical signature is one of the strongest I've ever seen, Miss McGonagall. I bet you're at the top of your class," Maguire said soothingly, as he waved his wand over some of the gold lettering.

The girl smiled slightly.

"She is," Dumbledore confirmed, a hint of pride in his voice. He stood near the edge of the bed, watching the numbers himself.

After a while the numbers faded and Maguire nodded satisfied. "Miss McGonagall, do you know the year?"

Minerva watched him for a moment before the numbers 1947 appeared in the air in front of them. They were script and golden. The number floated for a handful of seconds before dissipating.

"Ah, wandless magic. This is good news indeed."

"Good news, sir?" Melanie spoke from the side of the room. The doctor turned to look at her for a moment before nodding with a wide smile.

"Yes, the magical signature of those with wandless and nonverbal magical abilities are often were often used for healing rituals in the ancient days," Maguire explained.

"The ancient Egyptian transfigurists," Dumbledore said.

"Exactly. It means that she could potentially heal herself faster than healers ever could. It's a processes like potions and spells, but a much safer one, not to mention faster. I believe that's why you are already conscious and responsive."

"When can she start walking around?" Dumbledore asked.

"A week, perhaps a little earlier. It would be good to try and get some food and fluids into her before she starts to walk around. I have a feeling you don't like to sit around much, do you?"

Minerva shook her head.

"A week, then we will reassess. The main thing is to prevent any more internal bleeding and allow her magic to stabilize. When both are safe, we can begin to add in some movement."

The doctor rose up from his spot on the bed. Minerva's hand shot out and grabbed the healer's wrist with one hand, meanwhile the other hand drew a small golden cat in the air.

"A cat? I'm afraid I don't understand, Miss McGonagall," he said hesitatingly, turning to look at the other two. Moody looked just as confused, but Dumbledore's eyes were locked on the girl.

After a moment she nodded reassuringly to him and he cleared his throat. "Minerva is an unregistered animagus," Dumbledore revealed hesitantly. Moody swore loudly and the doctor's eyes widened considerably. "Her alternate form is a cat. I believe she is asking you if it is safe for her to transform."

Maguire wiped his head with his handkerchief before answering.

"I'm no expert on alternate forms of magic or transfiguration. Animagi are exceedingly rare and complex magic. I have no idea if it would be safe for you to transform. I would wait for everything to stabilizing before attempting a transformation, just to be sure. I believe you would be a better judge of that, yourself."

He gave her a small smile and a nod before exiting the tent. The other two men followed.

"Do you know what's wrong with her?" Moody asked eagerly as Dumbledore shot him a heavy frown as the three stood near Alastor's tent.

The healer sighed carefully peering down at his notes. "I believe I understand what's made her unable to speak, yes, as for the trauma of being held against her will, there could be several other complications than just the internal bleeding.

"I believe Miss McGonagall has a rare type of disassociation. I've never seen it in a young woman before, but it seems to present itself in a similar way as some of the other high level soldiers I examined from the Middle East. In order to keep information from those hurting her, she talked herself into forgetting how to speak in order to keep silent."

There was a short pause.

"She made herself mute?" Moody said with an eyebrow raised.

Maguire chuckled.

"No, no, more like her subconscious simply shut that part of herself down for a time. She still _could_ speak and since she's been rescued, I don't understand why she wouldn't, but you see how she doesn't try to communicate through words? Her mind still thinks in them, she still hears them and processes them like that, but it's as if her subconscious remembers her vow to remain silent and is continuing to hold it."

Dumbledore ran a finger down his short beard, clearly in thought. "Minerva values bravery and loyal above all else. She's very protective over her those she loves. Do you think she still believes we are in danger if she speaks?"

"That may well be it. I don't know why she hasn't spoken even simply sentences, though. She doesn't appear to suffer empathy for her captors nor does she still think she's being held against her will," the healer said with a slight shrug. "She's only fifteen. This kind of trauma to her system can be a lot to handle. The fact she is even cognitive and awake is a miracle in itself."

Moody growled under his breath. "Can we make her speak? She could have important information against the Blackcoats. We could be wasting valuable time to move against them before the information goes out of date."

Maguire's blue eyes darkened and his nose wrinkled in distaste. "Of course not! If she held the silence this long, you won't be able to get her to. I think it will come back in a time for need or more probably when she once again feels safe and secure. You forget, she's been through an extensive trauma for anyone, let alone a little girl."

"Is there anything we can do to help her?" Dumbledore asked quickly.

The healer hesitated. "Her magical signature is strong. Stronger than any I've seen. Her body will heal if her magic continues to repair itself. You want to make her feel safe and hopefully begin to move her back into society slowly. She'll no doubt have trouble before she can actually even try to go back to her former life, but with the support of those who care for her, I believe she will begin to heal."

"How long before we should see some changes?"

Dumbledore turned towards Moody with an angry look. The fire in his eyes didn't seem to die as the healer spoke again, somewhat impatiently.

"It may take time for her to adjust back to a somewhat normal lifestyle. After a while, she probably didn't think she would live to see the outside of that prison again, let alone the ones she loved and was stolen from. I will be back later in the week to check up on her again. Good day, gentlemen."


	3. Kitten

_**Chapter Three **_

Melanie split her time between sitting with Minerva and helping her fellow Aurors go through the rest of Grindelwald's prison, looking for files, traps, and clues that may lead them to where the Blackcoats and Grindelwald were hiding.

She had spent another dozen fruitless hour trying to get Minerva to open up to her before coming outside for some air and running into Albus Dumbledore.

"Good morning, Auror Ramirez. How are you this fine morning," the red haired Professor said with a polite smile.

"I, er—good. How are you, sir?"

"Quite well, thank you. Just some curse breaking over at the prison, but alas, no success," he said lightly before giving her another smile and walking towards Moody's tent.

"Professor, can I ask you something?" she called after him. He turned half way and walked back to her. Dumbledore nodded and folded his hands behind his back, pensively. "Of course. Let us walk around the edge of the camp, yes?"

She swallowed and nodded. The handsome and intelligent professor always made her flustered. She matched his stride as they walked the edge of the encampment and forest. Dozens of tents were set up in a semi-circle around the prison. Some of the survivors were sitting out with the Aurors on blankets in the grass, playing chess and other games or simply relaxing in the sun.

"Who is she, sir?"

He smiled quietly, almost to himself.

"Her name is Minerva."

A nervous giggle escaped Melanie. "Yes, I know her name sir, but who is she. I can't get her to talk to me, she refuses to write anything down, let alone open up. I … I don't know what to do to help her."

Albus stroked his beard warily. "Minerva is perhaps the most wildly intelligent, passionate, brave person I have ever met. Even so she is intensely private. You help her by being a reoccurring presence, something that is always present and is quietly accepting."

"You seem like you know her well, professor."

Dumbledore's cheeks flushed and he smiled slightly. "Minerva and I are very close," he responded diplomatically. Melanie smirked at his embarrassment. She decided not to push her luck.

"She's not from England," she said, not really questioning it.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Minerva's family lives in Caithness, on the coast of Scotland."

"Do they know where she is?"

Dumbledore gave a bitter laugh. "I doubt it. I unfortunately know from experience Minerva's family wouldn't be exactly upset if she failed to show up during the summers anymore."

Melanie frowned and Dumbledore sighed and explained. "Her parents had her committed to an institution in Scotland at age eight because they thought she was possessed; her magic frightened them into becoming paranoid and destructive. When she came to Hogwarts she flourished. She is the most well-known and powerful Transfiguration prodigy since myself. I believe she will soon surpass my skills at her age. But the happiness was short lived; Grindelwald came and began to target Muggleborns. Minerva is young, beautiful, and powerful and she is close to me. She didn't even stand a chance."

"How did the Blackcoats get their hands on her?" Melanie asked.

Dumbledore bent down to pick up a smooth stone from the edge of the forest line and threw it swiftly towards the tree line. "We continued to let the children go into Hogsmeade under the impression that the Aurors and the barriers would hold off any backlash from the Blackcoats. They came anyways and were trying to bait a handful of the younger children, mostly third year Muggleborns who hadn't been to the town before. Minerva and her friends stepped in to help and several of the men recognized Minerva. There was a struggle and two of the Blackcoats ended up dead, but they took her anyways."

"She's just a little kid," Melanie breathed.

"So are you," Dumbledore said quietly.

Melanie didn't answer as they began to walk back towards the camp tents. The new information about the girl in her tent swirled around in her mind, opening up questions that she wasn't sure she wanted answered.

"Kitten? KITTEN?"

The man was thin and tall long scars clawed down his face. He wore a ratty tee shirt with long oversized pant. His arm was wrapped in a sling and an eye patch covered his left eye. His hair was chestnut and long with knots. Dumbledore and Melanie ran over to the three nurses who were trying to hold him back and sedate him, but Dumbledore waved them off.

"Steady, m'boy, can you tell me what's wrong? What's your name?"

"'t's Lewis," he said distractedly. "I need to find Kitten. You need to help me, please we have to get her."

"Easy, easy. Who are you looking for?" Dumbledore eased the man down on to the ground with a calm, but concerned look. His aura seemed to leak with calm and openness. The man, maybe in his mid-twenties took to it like a starved lion.

The man wilted against the tree stump and ran his ragged shirt sleeve over his eyes. He looked around wildly and for a moment Melanie wondered if he even knew where he was. Then he turned around and focused on Dumbledore's face.

"Kitten, you have to find her," he said clearly. "Dark, dark hair. Little faerie of a girl. Eyes, big green eyes." His hands shook. "You have to go back and find her. Macnair was looking for her," he breathed horror struck.

Dumbledore straightened. "Wallace Macnair, Grindelwald's Deputy?" he said, his voice no longer as calm. His blue eyes darkened.

"He … _bothered_ her," Lewis said with a scowl. "And then he came for her and the two just disappeared, gone, poof. But she's not dead. They couldn't kill her," he gave a nervous giggle, "she just wouldn't die. He knew she was important like that." The man was moving back into hysteria quickly. Dumbledore knelt before him and place two sturdy hands on his shoulder.

"I need you to stay with me, Lewis, can you do that?" he said carefully.

"Kitten," he repeated again weakly.

"He's looking for Minerva," Melanie said, her tongue thick in her mouth. The man made the young Auror skittish.

"Minerva?" the man repeated, his eyes wide. "You mean you've seen her?"

"She's all right, Mister Lewis," Melanie said. "They've just been patching her up," she said, trying to give the man some peace.

"I have to see her," he said, trying to move to his feet, but Dumbledore stopped him.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Dumbledore said, pushing on his good shoulder to indicate for him to sit back down. "She's still not out of the woods yet and we don't want to overexcite her. How do you know Minerva?"

"She saved the lot of us," he said quietly. He looked out towards the other survivors in the grass. "In the first few weeks she kept us all sane. Never would tell us her name, guess she realized they knew how important she was and knew the rest of us weren't as strong as she was." He gave a bitter laugh. "We'd tell them anything thing they wanted to hear to make it all just stop."

There was a pause before, "Why were you imprisoned?" Melanie asked quietly.

Lewis looked up at her. His eyes were dark and empty. "After I left school, I went back to my village. I was Muggleborn and attended Salem in America. When I returned home before going to work for the Ministry, I fell in love with a Muggle girl I had known from my primary school days. _Karen_." His voice turned soft. "The Blackcoats found out and dealt with me and my wife."

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore said gravely.

He chuckled bitterly and pulled up some grass at his feet in despair. "You never think you'll make it out of a place like that. There's nothing but death there. Death and darkness. Then she showed up. Something about her. I don't know if it was her eyes or youth. Something about her gave us all hope."

Albus smiled sadly at the man's assessment of his mentee. Lewis turned his face back up towards Dumbledore.

"You're the one she was waiting for."

Melanie wrinkled her nose confused and turned to look at Dumbledore. He however didn't look confused. His eyes intensified and his hand sagged on the man's shoulder.

"She knew you would come for her. No matter what, we tried to convince her no to keep that kind of false hope. I thought it was just 'cause she was a kid. You know how naïve they can be. But she wasn't wrong. You came for her."

"Not fast enough," Dumbledore whispered desolately.

_ *The Great War 1944*_

Melanie and Albus spent the rest of the day talking to the other prisoners, gathering intelligence about Minerva from the different survivors. All the survivors told the same sad little story. When they returned to the tent, Dumbledore moved to sit with Minerva, whispering in her ear and holding her hand sadly, but lovingly for a long time.

Melanie left them to their privacy and went to brief Moody on the news she had discovered. When she came back to the tent, Minerva was alone, sitting up on the bed, reading through some of the textbooks they had found in the prison.

Some of the older Aurors who seemed to have a soft spot for the girl, were scoping through the prison when they found some of the smallest clothes for her to wear. Though they were still largely gaping off her little body, they looked better than the one large shirt she had been wearing like a dress the last week.

"Hey," Melanie said with an awkward smile. She perched lightly on the edge of the bed. "I know I have no reason to be here and I know you know why Moody's wants someone with you all the time. You're much, much smarter than he gives you credit for. I just want to be honest with you. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to.

"We've been talking to some of the other survivors; the things you did for them, that hope that you gave them, you deserve so much more than being used as a pawn. If you want to talk, then we can talk about anything you want. If not then we can just sit around or play chess, whatever makes you feel better. Perhaps we can even be friends."

The offer for friendship was there and Minerva gave Melanie a small smile and slipped her hand into Melanie's, accepting it.


	4. Checkmate

_**Chapter Four**_

Minerva and Melanie sat on the grass outside on a thick blanket. The prisoners didn't seem to mind the cold as much as the Aurors. Melanie reasoned it was the freedom over the air around them that made them all want to stay outside as long as possible.

The Transfiguration prodigy had taken an immediate liking to one of Melanie's teammates, the tall and muscular, Kingsley Shacklebolt. The dark skinned Auror was only a few year out of Hogwarts and remembered Minerva as the shy little First Year from the back of his NEWT Transfiguration class. He was much more comfortable around the silent girl and often made her smile.

"May I ask you something?" Melanie said, leaning over to Lewis. They sat a little farther away from Minerva and Kingsley with a handful of the others on the blanket.

The man looked up from the game and inclined his head. "Only if I may ask one in return," he said calmly.

Melanie smirked and nodded. "That's fair," she agreed. "Why Kitten?"

The name brought a smile to Lewis' lips. He stretched slightly in the grass and turned to face the young Auror.

"The first night in the cell, after they threw her in with the lot of us, she moved back to the corner of the cell. It was dark and freezing in there. I can still smell the death burnt into the walls. She curled up in the corner of the cell, away from the rest of us. We normally sought comfort in a group, harder to pick us off, I guess. She didn't seem comfortable with the big pile of bodies. She jus' stayed in the corner, to settle herself I think. To think maybe.

"Halfway through the night, there was a quiet _pop_ that woke me up. I looked up and 'stead of the little girl, there was baby cat. Since she wouldn't tell us her name, I called her Kitten. Fitting I suppos' at the time. After that, it jus' kind of stuck."

Melanie nodded, committing every part of the story to her memory.

"When can we go home?"

Melanie's eyebrow puckered and her heart sank at the question. She felt Lewis' eyes on her as she struggled to deliver the bad news.

"We have orders from the Minister of Magic that we have to hold down the fort, no one gets in or out of the perimeters until we've gone through all of the prison and finish talking to the Blackcoats we captured. We want to be able to care for the injured before we take anyone home. The press has been all over the event and we're not letting anything slip until we know all the details of the entire operation. Moody thinks we can use the information we find here to help get a location on Grindelwald and hopefully defeat him."

Lewis nodded dejectedly and fingered the gauze around his arm. "Got yeh," he said quietly. "Can't be good though, for her I mean, to stay here without her friends and family."

Melanie's eyes found Minerva, her pale slender hand moving one of her black knights up the board, taking out Kingsley's pawn.

"It's not good for any of you, but there's nothing we can do about it at the moment. I wish I could tell you something else. Where…where will you go? After you're released I mean?"

The man gave a heavy sigh.

"To make peace with my wife. I have friends from school in the States that I can stay with before I can get back on my feet. Will Kitten go back to her family?"

Melanie shook her head. "Back to Hogwarts I think. Her family's in Scotland. I don't know if they know about…" she trailed off. "Dumbledore will know what's best for her. He'll take care of her.

"Yeah," he said with a tone Melanie didn't quite recognize. "I'm sure he will."

Just as the two were moving to rejoin the group watching the chess game, the auburn hair professor they were just discussing walked into view.

"Kingsley, m'boy, you're not honestly playing against Minerva, are you? She'll take you for all you're worth within minutes," Dumbledore said, coming to sit on the ground next to his student.

She smiled up at him and he gave her a gentle curve of his lips in return.

"I'm afraid so, sir," Shacklebolt said with a concentrated frown on his lips. "I should have thought this through before challenging your mentee shouldn't I? I remember you used to be quite the chess player yourself."

Dumbledore inclined his head slightly. "I'm afraid, Miss McGonagall has far surpassed her teacher in this area. Ooh, she's got you in quite the trap doesn't she?"

"Eer, bishop to D4?" Kingsley said hesitantly.

Minerva eyes sparked slightly and her hand slipped from petting the grass around her to her black queen, which made short work of Kingsley's king, leaving it in a pile of rubble on the square. The rest of the black pieces erupted in an animated hurrah.

"Ouch Shacklebolt, that was ugly," Melanie quipped, laughing at the glare her teammate sent her across the blanket. Dumbledore smiled at the encounter.

"Checkmate."

Melanie's mouth sagged.

The rest of those on the blanket went silent and Minerva looked up from the chess board innocently. Dumbledore smiled broadly and squeezed her hand gently.

"Well done, Minerva."

"Mister Caverly, this is the lot of them."

The group looked up to see Alastor Moody, ragged at ever, standing next to a well-dressed man with navy robes and a M ministry pin next to his pocket.

He had close cropped blonde hair with a few strands of gray in his military cut and sharp brown eyes with a steely stare that made Melanie uncomfortable.

"This Albus Dumbledore, the Junior Auroring Squad, and Minerva McGonagall. Dumbledore, this is Michael Caverly, the Secretary to the Minster of Magic. He's here to conduct some interviews about the eradication of Nurmengard."

Caverly extended a hand towards the Transfiguration professor. "Dumbledore, pleasure to finally meet you. I wish it was under different circumstances."

"And you, Mister Caverly."

The man turned towards Minerva and knelt down to extend his calloused hand towards her. There was a coldness in his gaze towards her.

"Miss McGonagall, it's truly a gift to meet you. I've heard quite a lot about you."

Melanie leaned forward, waiting for the raven hair girl to say something else, but her lips gently closed and the wild fear at the sight of him seemed to quiet. She shook the man's hand timidly before folding her arm around her torso.

Dumbledore seemed to notice her discomfort and rose to his feet. "Well let's get that interview done then, shall we, Mister Caverly?"

"Of course, after you, professor. Good to meet you Miss McGonagall, Aurors. Keep up the good work."


	5. Battle

_**Chapter Five**_

"Okay Professor, everything from this point on will be on record for the Ministry of Magic. Please try to answer all the questions truthfully and to the best of your abilities. Are you ready?"

Dumbledore tore his eyes from the scribbling levitating quill and nodded confidently, though his insides were thumping loudly. "Of course, Mister Caverly, whenever you're ready."

The man nodded once and settled in his chair. "Albus Percival Wilfric Brian Dumbledore. Thirty two years of age. Professor and Deputy Head Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Tell me about the events leading up to the morning you stormed Nurmengard Prison."

Dumbledore nodded smoothly.

"I left my teaching post shortly before the beginning of the second term at Hogwarts. I had been in correspondence with several of the Head Aurors," he inclined his head towards Moody who stood in the shadows, "and by that time we thought we had narrowed down one of Grindelwald's strong hold, his main prison."

"What made you decide that I was time for you to become more involved in the war? I recall the Minister had come to you on several occasions for you to leave and come out into the field but you refused," Caverly said accusingly.

_Dumbledore sat in his office, motionlessly. Unopened letters and papers littered his floors. Open books and torn maps were thrown open everywhere. The window was open and a pile of strewn leaves had settled on his bookshelves. _

_Fawkes let out a long, mournful note, but nothing seemed to rouse the auburn haired man from his mourning. A shorter wizard with a short, full beard stood in front of him. _

"_Albus, you need to do something. You're destroying yourself. You need to eat, sleep, something. There was nothing you could have done for her, Albus._

_With a rapidly beating heart, Albus jolted to his feet. Heavy bag under his eyes and crinkled, dirty clothes made him look even older. _

"_I have to find her."_

"_Albus," Dippet said gently. "You don't even know where she is … if she's even alive."_

"_She's alive. I know she is. If she wasn't … I … I would feel it. Magic has a way of transmitting life. Our magic is tied tightly enough through her apprenticeship … I would know. I'd just know. I have go, Armando."_

Dumbledore rapidly blinked to clear his thoughts.

"It had come to my attention that Grindewald's motives were escalading and that there was no hope of anyone else stopping him. It was time for greater actions and attention. The Ministry needed someone who knew what Grindelwald was like, how he thoughts and planned. That person was me."

Caverly ran a hand through his hair and glanced back down at the folded piece of parchment in his hand. When he looked back up, his eyes were cruel and cold.

"So your decision had nothing to do with the disappearance and abduction of Minerva McGonagall?"

Moody bristled slightly behind Caverly. "Partly," Albus said democratically. "Her abduction from Hogsmeade was a wakeup call to just how far and how bold the Blackcoats and even Grindelwald himself had become in just the few months he had drawn to the Continent and Hogwarts."

"_Albus?" Galatea Merrythought stood in Dumbledore's doorway as he stood copying note on the blackboard. "Albus, there's something you need to hear."_

"_I don't have time for another lecture on the rulebook, Galatea. I'm afraid I've run out of patience at the moment."_

_The normally brazen witch stood quietly at the door. "Albus, I'm so sorry. I just was trying to talk to her and she ran. By the time I caught up with her in Hogsmeade, they had already taken her."_

_The chalk in Dumbledore's hand slipped and crackled on the stone floors. _

"_What?" he said dangerously. _

"_Some of the seventh years saw it. She put up quite a fight. She killed one, injured two others, but there were just too many. We think the Blackcoats were waiting for students to come past the borders. There's nothing anyone could do."_

_Albus whirled around, magic crackling off him in reds and golds. "No Muggleborns were supposed to be allowed past the boundaries, let alone into Hogsmeade. Why were you talking to her without me? You had no right to upset her!" Angry tears dribbled down his cheek and Galatea's eyes got wide._

"_I'm sorry, Albus, truly. She's gone."_

"What's the nature of your relationship with Miss McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore?"

"She's my apprentice."

"It's very rare to have such a young apprentice, isn't it? Why her? What's so special about Miss McGonagall? You could have any pick of your stock fresh from a graduate program of good stock, good foundations of master level knowledge …"

Dumbledore smirked and straightened in his chair. "You mean why of all the students I had begging for apprenticeships, did I choose a fifteen year old, Muggleborn girl from the coastline of Scotland?"

"Steady there, Albus," Moody snapped warningly. Caverly cleared his throat and began to correct him, but Dumbledore raised a hand slightly, still smiling.

"I chose her because I had never met someone, myself included, with such a gift in Transfiguration. It had nothing to do with her linage, or her schooling, in had all to do with her magic and her heart."

Slightly chastised, Caverly glanced down at the still scribbling quill.

"When did you first make contact on the sight for the prison?"

"We had an inside source from one of the outlying Auroring allies in Germany that there was a prison with a lot of magical barriers, an unusual amount of activity. We went out and found a prison with the movement of over two dozen Blackcoats within it."

"_This must be it," Moody whispered, from beside Dumbledore in the vegetation. There was the bluish, clear crackling of the barriers around an ugly, large, and fore boarding gray structure. "I have six watchtowers, all have look outs. Three magical and anti-apparations barriers. Looks like we have five or six levels of cells."_

_There was a quiet pause. Both men were dressed in dark boots and camouflage uniforms. They had forsaken their black robes to stay hidden among the tree line, even with invisibility cloaks. _

"_Albus?"_

"_We need a plan, we're only going to have one shot at this. We have to get more people here," Albus breathed back to his. Leaves and twigs were caught in his beard and the large tree and bush limbs were poking him in the back. _

_He didn't seem to notice as he stared, transfixed at the structure in front of him. _

"_Dumbledore?"_

"_She should be in there."_

"_Steady there, mate, we gotta get in first. Then we can rescue all of them. No one gets left behind."_

"According to the transcripts provided to the Ministry, you and thirty two other Aurors stormed the prison at 4:38 AM on the morning of January 21st. You disarmed the barriers one by one, drawing the Blackcoats to the edge of the perimeter. You then split into three groups and each took a wing. According to the plans, you chose the time with the lease amount of Blackcoats to break it, correct?"

Dumbledore nodded and folded his hands in his lap, hiding their slight quake. "To minimize the captive causalities, yes."  
The blue quill seemed to make note of this. "We managed to overcome the Blackcoats rather easily. The whole battle took less than a few hours in all."

_Albus' blue spell hit one of the Blackcoats directly in the chest and he stumbled onto the stone walls, quiet. _

"_That seems to be all of them here, Dumbledore," Moody called over his him, blood smeared to the right side of his face. "Hills said they caught the rest of them trying to burn the documents. They managed to save most of them."_

"_Have we located any of the captives?" Albus called, but Moody just shook his head._

"_Sir, you need to see this," one of the junior Aurors called from the other side of the hall._

"Grindelwald wasn't there, but we had reason to suspect Macnair, his right hand man, was in charge of the prison. He managed to escape as well," Dumbledore said.

"What did you find there, other than the documents that our analysts are going over now?"

Albus swallowed and drew quiet. "I've never seen anything like it. I've been to war, but nothing like this. Bodies, half decomposed and decapitated laid everywhere. Blood and dirt smeared the wall. The whole building stank of death and decay. When we finally found some of the captured, they were tortured, beaten, half dead, and starved…"

"_What is it, Shacklebolt?" Moody snapped as they followed the black skinned Auror. _

"_Sir, we found…" the Auror trailed off and the sight took away Albus' breath. The large cell was filled with a dozen people. Men and women lined the walls, dirty and beaten. Black and blue bruises and open cut and sores were visible from across the room. There were two unmoving bodies in the corner, haphazardly thrown into the corner. _

_When they entered some of the prisoners looked up with wonderstruck looks and gaping mouths. Albus searched their faces in vain for the one he was seeking. _

"_There are rooms full of them, sir," Shacklebolt said quietly, leaning down to help one of the older men up to his feet carefully. "We're trying to get the Healers to as many as we can, but … a lot of them are beyond help."_

"_Good man, Shacklebolt. Try to help them as much as you can," Albus said quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder._

_The air was thick and disgusting and the temperature freezing. There was hysterical crying and half a dozen language filtering through his head, as his heart craved for a single laugh, sprinkled with a Gaelic accent. _

"_Albus?" Moody shouted. "ALBUS! They found her. She's in the top cell!" Dumbledore apparated without a second's hesitation._

_She looked so small, alone is a gray, stone box. He fell to his knees at her side as the others crowded around her. a too large shirt covered her body, her skin was frozen to the touch. _

"_Minerva?" he called softly to her. _

_He pulled her tiny body onto his lap. His heart rapidly accelerated as he tried to vain to find a pulse. Her hair was tangled in a messy plaited braid. Her cheeks were gaunt and pale. He could feel every one of her ribs through the shirt. Bruises and long, thin cuts marred her skin. He could see heavy burn marks over her once perfect skin. _

_He felt his stomach twist in his body and he fought the urge to vomit. Blood, some still wet, others black and dried, was soaked through her hair and flannel of the shirt. _

"_Minerva? Minerva? Can you hear me? Oh Merlin, Minerva I need to you wake up, open your eyes for me!"_

_He felt a hand on his shoulder. Alastor's. He jerked away. Tears struggled to remain at bay. _

"_Minerva? I need to focus on my voice. Minerva, listen to me. I need you to open your eyes, please."_

_There was silence as no one moved in the cell. Just as he was about to speak again, there was a flittering of movement across her face. Her translucent eye lids fluttered and large green eyes were exposed. _

_They seemed unsure and cloudy, but as she fixed on Dumbledore, they seemed to clear. _

_Dumbledore felt his heart jump. "That's great, my dear. Keep your eyes open for me, dear heart. It's all going to be okay. You're safe you, safe."_

As Albus finished describing the scene, trying to push the battered and beaten memory of Minerva from his head, and the quill finished dictating his words, Caverly cleared his throat. "Thank you for your support in this matter, Professor. The Ministry thanks you for your bravery and skills."

Dumbledore ignored him. "How much longer is the Ministry going to keep everyone here? I'm sure the families are anxious to see their loved ones."

Caverly seemed unconcerned. "As soon as we get cleared and take stock of the full situation. It may be a little while."

"Will you be staying, Caverly?" Moody said swiftly, cutting off Albus' reply. The men stood as proceeded through the entrance of the tent where the sun was setting over the camp.

"For a little while I think, Moody, I still have to get the accounts of the prisoners and the other Aurors. We need to have a clear picture before releasing anything to press or letting out letters into the world. This is a big victory for the Light and we want to have all our ducks in a row."

"Of course."

The man bid both men a good evening and casually walked over to the groups of prisoners and Aurors, note and quill in his hand.

"Never liked him," Moody said gruffly as he and Albus parted ways.

He found her sitting on her bed, nimble fingers coursing over the books they had found for her in the prison. Melanie was sitting quietly in the corner, scratching away on parchment. She only briefly glanced up at him before turning back down to the paper, focused.

Minerva looked up to him and smiled. He didn't return it, but anxiously sat down on the bed, pulling her close to him, relishing in the warmth of her body and the rhythm of her beating heart.

The girl didn't seem shocked or surprised, nor did she speak. She simply let him hold her, lying her head on his shoulder. The smell of her hair filling his senses.

For the first time since Melanie had met them, the student comforted her professor.


	6. Phoenix

_**Chapter Six**_

Melanie followed Minerva as they moved around the empty halls of Nurmengard. Their boots echoed lightly as they walked. Minerva seemed pensive, running her fingertips along the stones in the wall. The stones were cold and gray, no place for anything happy to occur.

Simply being there made Melanie nervous and off put.

"Moody says that the majority of the papers are locked in something called a _safe_?" she glanced at the raven haired girl for confirmation on the strange word, but Minerva wasn't even looking in her direction.

"Anyways, it's like a huge metal box, and I mean huge, with a lock on it with numbers on it. Professor Dumbledore said we need to know all the numbers in the right order to make the box open. Ironic, huh, that they would use something Muggle, when they're trying to kill them all off?"

If Minerva was even paying attention to her, she didn't react. They continued to walked down the hall, Minerva tip toeing daintily towards the sides of the rooms and around all the people, careful not to make contact with anyone of them.

The Junior Aurors and other officers were putting together any more information on Grindelwald and his supporters through what they left over. Caverly was still roaming the camp, currently helping the younger Aurors go through the paperwork and books left over from the Blackcoats.

He smiled at her from across the room and the facial expression made shiver of dislike go down her spine.

Spell Specialists were working on the safe at the back of the room, dressed in navy robes and carefully planning out each move they were making with their wands.

Handfuls of higher up Aurors were pouring over a map in the center of the room, drawing lines with their wands that glowed for a moment before disappearing.

None of them seemed to notice the two girls except for Dumbledore who looked up as they entered and drew away from the table with a small smile.

He wore lilac robes, which Melanie found hilarious, and his red hair and beard seemed tangle free, much better than the last time she had seen him three days ago after his meeting with Caverly.

"Minerva?" Albus called softly. She turned with a grace Melanie had always envied in her and Albus drew her to the side of the room and out into the mouth of the hallway. The tenderness in his touch made Melanie want to weep.

He reached into his robe pocket and drew out a gold chain. He draped it from his fingers, showing Minerva the beautiful charm on the end.

It was smaller than an inch but was a beautiful stoned Phoenix. The feathers in flight were made of tiny, sparkling rubies and the crown made of light, white diamonds. The bird small eye was a petite mother of pearl.

When the light peeking through the windows it ignited like the bird was on fire and the flames danced.

"One of the Aurors found it," Albus said as an explanation.  
A tear leaked down Minerva cheek and Albus smiles gently at the first show of sadness since she had been rescued.

He drew her into his chest, running his fingers down her spine soothingly. His whispered carefully in her ear and the words they shared didn't reach Melanie.

"About time don't you think," Kingsley said drawing Melanie towards the rest of the Aurors in the room shifting through the left over files that hadn't been burned.

"Don't you think we should..."

"Nah, leave them. Both of them deserve some happiness don't you think?" he said smoothly. Melanie only nodded and watched as Albus released her, running his thumb over her cheek.

"Just think of the story," Kingsley said handing her a handful of half burnt files and sitting back down at one of the makeshift tables. "The pureblood Deputy Headmaster and the little Muggleborn prodigy."

Melanie smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't know you were such a romantic, Shacklebolt," she teased. He snorted but didn't respond.

Melanie glanced over to see Minerva and Albus renter the room. Minerva turned to scan the room and the two young Aurors stood warily to their feet. The feeling of something coming overtook the room.

The others must have felt it as well, as the conversation near began to die down and the groups stared at her in angst.

Dumbledore came to stand beside her, hand resting soothingly on the small of her back. This seemed to strengthen her enough for her mouth to part. What came out wasn't anything she could have expected.

"He's Macnair," she said in a prim and clear voice.

Melanie's mouth dropped and she turned to see Caverly freeze like a hippogriff in headlights. The room fell completely.

"Well look at that the little mouse found her voice," he said condescendingly.

_ *The Great War 1944*_

Melanie entered Minerva's tent to find her alone, perched on the bed, brushing her head. Her green eyes glanced up as the tent's flap moved and Melanie gave her a smile as she took her normal seat near the bed and makeshift nightstand.

After two hours of trying of restraining, arresting, helping stun, and incarcerate Caverly until they could investigate, she was exhausted.

Not nearly exhausted as the Fifth Year in front of her looked though.

"That was brave you know," she said gently and Minerva's hand stopped briefly on her locks. "To call Caverly out like in front of everyone."

For a moment Minerva breathed and then she turned to face Melanie.

"Sixteen, forty nine, eighteen," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"Moody…" she seemed to struggle for a moment and Melanie patiently held her tongue. "Moody wanted to know what I know. Sixteen, forty nine, eighteen. That's what I know."

Then she resumed brushing her hair.

It was while before any other movement happened. It was Minerva who moved. Her left hand slid to caress the golden necklace Dumbledore had given back to her.

Her fingers moved over it again and again and it seemed to steel her as she leaned back against the pillows. Finally Melanie spoke something that had been on her mind since the first week of their meeting.

She leaned forward, lowering her voice.

"He loves you, you know. Dumbledore. You don't have to say anything, I don't actually expect you too, but I just thought you should know that I see it. I couldn't help but wonder if something had happened between the two of you, you know before all this mess, or maybe nothing happened yet. I know it's really not my business or anything. I know it wouldn't exactly be proper, but the way he looks at you. Any witch would want a man to look at her like that, I—"

Minerva's eyes flickered up to her face and her fingers dropped the chain gently back onto her shift. She rose up from her bed, cutting off Melanie's ramblings.

Melanie watched as the dark haired girl took her hand. She watched breathlessly as Minerva moved Melanie's hand and place it over her heart, near where the phoenix nestled on its chain.

She gave the Auror a tentative smile.

She didn't need to use any words. The message was received loud and clear.


	7. Mouse

_**Chapter Seven**_

Albus Dumbledore stood next to Melanie looking through the window Dumbledore had erected to look through the wall in on Caverly. He stood silently, arms crossed over navy robes, a granite statue. The only indication of his life was the sharp up and down of his chest.

"Absolutely not," he said finally.

Moody moved restlessly behind the two. "Albus, she can handle this. She's not a little kid. All she has to do is talk to him."

Dumbledore whirled around, wild magic crackling around him. Melanie automatically took a step back in fright, but Moody only swallowed once and help his ground. "That's exactly what she is. She's only fifteen and you want her to go back and have a nice chat with one of the monsters who tortured her?"

"Perhaps your personal feeling are clouding your judgment, Dumbledore," Moody said brusquely. "Junior Auror Ramirez has spent quite a bit of time with Miss McGonagall as well. What do you think, Auror? Can she handle this?"

Melanie froze and looked from the two men in turn. Her words seemed to fail. She turned back to look at the man angrily pacing the room like a caged animal. Caverly, Macnair, whoever he was, he had hurt Minerva. Even him being in the camp had shut down her recovery. She had begun to speak, open up, but the moment Caverly had arrived, she had retreated back into her shell.

"I…" she trailed off for a moment before swallowing and deciding. "I think you should ask her. Minerva is more than a chess piece, she should be allowed to decide what she wants to do, what she can handle."

If either man felt one way about this they didn't make any facial expressions to indicate them. Moody gave a curt nod and swept away with a trail of Aurors behind him. Melanie followed Albus to find Minerva sitting on the blanket with Lewis and Kingsley, playing chess against Lewis who was chatting loudly as Minerva's nimble fingers woven the strands of grass growing back after the winter's frost.

Albus knelt beside her and Melanie nodded at the two others in greeting. "Minerva my dear, we need to talk about something, if that's all right?"

Minerva's nose wrinkled at the strange comment, but turned her attention.

Dumbledore seemed to be at a loss for words, so Melanie leaned forward. "Caverly wants to talk to you. He refuses to speak without anyone else and we can't get him to say anything. He claims to only speak with you. Moody wants to know if you'll speak with him."

Minerva's eyebrow dipped and she turned back to look at her Professor.

"Why?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily and the lines around his eyes seemed to deepen, making his older and darker. He placed his hand on top of her smaller one. "I don't know, dear heart. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Moody can get someone else to make Caverly talk."

Minerva seemed to consider this, her hands still moving around the grasses like they were holding her to the ground and reality before she looked back up at the two.

"I'll help," she said simply before turning back to her chess game.

_*The Great War 1944*_

Melanie stood breathlessly from the window as Minerva entered the room. Her hair was loose around her shoulder and fluttered as she sat down in the seat across from Caverly. He looked much wilder than he had as the Secretary to the Minister of Magic. His hair was spiked out and looked longer, unruly. The dark circles under his eyes made the whites of his eyes glow eerily and his sneer was like the maul of a bear.

Perhaps this was the real side of Caverly, the side that Minerva knew.

"I'm here. What do you want?" She seemed calm, but then again, Minerva McGonagall always seemed calm on the outside.

The monster chuckled and leaned back in his chair. Beside Melanie, Dumbledore pressed closer to the window. "She can do this," Melanie offered to him with a grim smile. "She's stronger than she knows."

Dumbledore's normally twinkling eyes were intense as he turned to look at her. "She's the bravest person I've met. That's what scares me most."

The look echoing from his eyes made Melanie's throat close from the sheer intensity of it and she turned back to the room. Minerva hadn't moved and Caverly had just smiled and leaned forward a little.

"Think that's the longest sentence I've ever heard you speak, little mouse," he said arrogantly.

"Funny to hear an accent on that little voice of yours," Caverly continued. "Scottish Gaelic, isn't it? I just love that side of the island, such a beautiful beaches. Perhaps I'll visit your family the next time I'm there."

Minerva stiffened in her chair and Dumbledore's fist tightened on the window frame.

"You have thirty seconds before I walk out of here."

"But I used to _so_ love our little chats together, mouse."

"That's enough get her out of there," Dumbledore snapped.

"Albus, no, wait…she's gotten his attention," Moody said, holding onto his forearm, eyes transfixed on Minerva's form. "Let her work the advantage."

Minerva stood up abruptly up from the chair and Caverly lunged to grab her wrists. Blood seeped down her arms, crimson against her pale skin.

Moody held Dumbledore as struggled to reach the door. Minerva sat back down and Caverly released his hands.

"I want to make a deal," Caverly said.

"And?" Minerva said expressionlessly, raising an eyebrow.

"And I want to make a deal for immunity."

Minerva was silent and frozen in place. It was quite a long time before she spoke. She sounded less sure than before. "You could have told this to Moody."

Caverly grinned, malice clear in his face. "But then I wouldn't get to spend any time with you, flower," he said, eyes glinting in the darkened room.

Then he attacked.

But before his hands could wrap around her beck, a bright white _protego_ expanded around her. Her hair flew back like a banner behind her and her clothes shuttered around her.

Albus made it to her first and the moment he was able to approach the shield, it dimmed, then all together disappeared in one. Minerva shook, her eyes locked on Caverly's unconscious form as Albus drew her into his embrace, crushing her against his body, his form almost overtaking her little one.

"She knocked him out," Moody called to Dumbledore who nodded shortly. "Let's get her out of here. She's done quite enough."

_*The Great War 1944*_

The Healer came out of the tent and was immediately pounced on by the people waiting outside. "How is she?" Albus demanded immediately.

The healer sighed. "She's not great," he said neutrally. "I think it's simply a relapse. She most likely has PTSD that's been triggered and now her health is suffering from it."

"What can we do?" Melanie asked quickly, drawing her cloak closer to her body as an extremely cold gust of wind came by. The Healer stopped near his tent and turned towards the rest of the group.

"You have to try and keep her talking about anything, meaningless things. After the fever breaks, the rest of her symptoms will follow as long as an infection doesn't set in. she's in for a rough road. No more playing hero for a while. She needs to be more concerned with surviving."

_*The Great War 1944*_

Thousands of miles away, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was beginning to awaken from their slumbers. Snow was crunched on the ground and the windows iced over as Galatea Merrythought sat down at the large, long table Professor Table in the Great Hall.

"Morning," she greeted Horace Slughorn, who was stuffing his face with a maple covered waffle, and Hebert Beery, who was drinking his normal cup of sugary coffee.

"Galatea, good morning," Beery said with a smile. The small wizard with the dirt covered overalls was always friendly. The Herbology professor was quite a number of years older than the Defense witch, but he always was happy and cheerful, something to keep close to in these dark times.

She shed her thick sweater and sat down at her normal seat. However, the chair next to her was empty. Galatea's smile faded.

"We all miss him, deary."

Galatea turned to give Sonny Wainscott an artificial smile. The nurse was always trying to heal everything including people's problems. Her bright orange hair always managed to irritate Galatea, but it was hard to hate someone who was so caring.

"Do you think he'll return soon?"

Galatea shrugged and hummed only in response. It was partly her fault Albus was gone at all.

She glanced down at the rest of the Hall, noticing the small, but evident hole at the end of the Gryffindor Table. Her heart ached for a moment. "It's a shame," Slughorn said, nodding towards where Galatea was looking. "She was one of the most talent little things I had seen in a while. She would have gone far."

"Don't you dare!" Galatea snapped. Horace's muddy brown eyes grew wide. "Don't you dare use that tone like, like, she's…" The final word got caught in her throat and she turned away.

Galatea reached for the goblet of pumpkin juice, almost knocking into her plate as her hand shook, revealing a thick ivory envelope with her name on the front. Puzzled, she set down the goblet and slid her finger under the flap. Her eyes scanned the first few lines and her mouth dropped.

"What is it, dear?"

Galatea opened her mouth but it was quite a few moments before any words formed.

"Galatea?" Beery said, concerned.

"It's from Albus."


	8. Used

**Author's Note: **I've been busy posting some other unrelated Harry Potter stories if you want to check them out, "Poisons of the Soul" and "Twinkling". In this chapter we get to meet Minerva friends back at Hogwarts. Please let me know your thought on this latest chapter. We get to see what's going on at Hogwarts for the first time! Enjoy your holidays and please review.

_**Chapter Eight**_

Melanie stared at the man next to Moody with a pit gnawing in her stomach. "So Auror Moody tells me that you have been one of the leads on the McGonagall girl, Junior Auror Ramirez. That you've gotten to know her, gotten her to open up to you so we could gain information."

Jason Castrin was the Head of the Defense for the Ministry of Magic. He looked more like a politician than an Auror and after the last fiasco with well dressed men from the Ministry, Melanie didn't want to meet with him. "I've been guarding Minerva, yes."

He nodded and folded his hands in his lap.

"Tell me how she's doing."

A flame of irritation whelmed up in her. "No well, sir, after helping out the Ministry with her torturer, who attacked her, she relapsed and spiked a fever and she's returned to not speaking. Her blood counts are down and the Healers said that she's decreased in her overall nutrition again. She's shutting back down."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Melanie swallowed her reply at Moody's sharp glare.

"McGonagall is the reason we have the codes and Macnair, yes?" Moody nodded from the corner of the room. "What else has she given us?"

"She's identified patterns for us, some routes and phrases, their code words and things like that, but were not sure how current or accurate they are, afterall, the girl is tramatized."

The man nodded. "You said Dumbledore and the girl were close has he gotten anything out of her?"

"The Healer says she has a rare type of disassociation," Moody said, cutting off Melanie's reply. "She can speak and has, but can't. She managed to convince herself to forget to speak in order to keep information from the Blackcoats. The Healer doesn't know how to reverse it or how to get her to open up."

"How curious," the man said, stroking his short beard. "I have friends in warfare medicine that would kill for a case like this. They study for this type of psychological damages. How did you manage to get her to speak, Auror?"

Melanie smoothed her robes, feeling self-conscious. "I didn't, sir. Minerva did it all on her own. I was just there for her."

The man brushed off the comment and turned to Moody. "Keep an eye on the girl. Contact me with further details of her medical case. I'll be interested in the psychological ramifications. German torturers often have strange effects on the mind." He stood and Melanie jerked to her feet as well.

Melanie swallowed and blurted out, "what are you going to do to her?"

The man looked surprised and Moody glared. "To Miss McGonagall? Goodness, nothing. She's going home with Dumbledore, expectedly. We, the Auroring Department and the Ministry of Magic, have no further use for her. Once the rest of the camp is released she and the rest of the captives are allowed to go home and everything can go back to normal."

As if that could ever be true.

_*The Great War 1944*_

"A word Auror Ramirez?"

Albus Dumbledore lead the way to the edge of the tent, where they could see Minerva sitting on the edge of the encampment, huddled in a corner of a blanket with a large textbook. She was alone, wrapped in a large coat that looked like Dumbledore's.

"Should she be out of bed?"

Dumbledore jerked his head. He looked more tired than normal. Between caring for Minerva and going through the files they had discovered in the safe from the Blackcoats, Melanie rarely saw him sleep. His robes were dirty and crinkled and his beard was tangled.

"The fever broke again and the Healer said it was good for her to get more sunlight. I just wanted to warn you that there have been reports that the camp is going to be cleared within three months. Those not in critical conditions are going to be quietly escorted before then. In the meantime, Galatea Merrythought and four students from Hogwarts are coming."

Melanie frowned for a moment confused. "Why?"

"To help Minerva, I hope. Maybe they'll be able to break the spell. Perhaps they can help us get Minerva back."

_*The Great War 1944*_

"Do you think she's actually going to let us see her?"

The girl who had spoken was pacing back and forth around the hall, boots clopping loudly against the stone floors. Her short cropped hair was bronze and glinted off the light, matching her hawk like yellow eyes that were alight and bright. She wore a Hogwarts uniform that was slightly wrinkled.

"I doubt it," the Edward Potter grumbled. "When my Muggle cousin came back from fighting overseas, he locked himself in his bedroom and refused to come out. When my aunt and uncle finally broke down the door, they found himself strung up from the ceiling. He had hung himself from the fan. They don't let little kids see the war debris. It'll be a miracle if she even looks like Minerva anymore."

"Potter! That's awful, don't say things like that!" the hawk eyed witch hissed, slapping her friend sharply.

"It's true, Xio," the boy defended hotly.

"Shut up all of you," the other girl snapped from her position her long, rust colored hair fell off over her shoulders. Since her friend's abduction, she had insisted on keeping it in a tight, intricate French twist, so no one could tell it's length or of its wave. Her skin was slightly tanned from her time oversea and a sprig of freckles dusted her nose. Her sharp hazel eyes moved back and forth between her friend's anxiously.

"Sorry, Poppy," Xiomara said quietly, suddenly subdued, remembering the presence of their other friend. "I know you've missed her something awful."

"Missed her?" the girl said sharply, turning to glare at the other girl in disbelief. "Missed her? Yes, like a hole ripped through my chest. One moment she was sitting in the common room with me, going over Charms homework and the next minute, the Aurors are telling us it's better if she's dead?"

The youngest girl with stately and rosy cheeks stepped forward and put her hand on top of Poppy's. She was stout with frizzy orange toned hair. "It's all right, Poppy," she said quietly.

"Are we ready?" Professor Galatea Merrythought said, coming down the hallway, her boots clicking on the stone floors. The Defense Professor was tall and thin with a severe looking bun. Her olive toned face highlighted large brown eyes that showed her truly caring heart. Her black teaching robes flared out behind her.

"Professor Merrythought, are we actually going to be able to see minerva?" Potter interrupted immediately.

She nodded once. "That is the understand, Mister Potter. Though I must warn you, the kind of trauma that your friend has been through leaves more scars than just visable to the naked eye. You need to be cautious. No yelling, sharp movements, and loud noises," she sent a sharp glance at Potter, "she may be distance or like she's not even there. All of that is normal. Just be prepared for whatever state she may be in when we arrive."

The professor glanced at her pocket watch. "We're set to leave in just a moment."

"Professor…" Poppy trailed off.

The professor stopped short and looked down at the girl.

"Is she really?" Poppy glanced down at her scuffed black boots.

"Alive?" the professor prompted. The bronze haired girl nodded and the woman gave her a small smile. "Yes, she is. I don't know what kind of shape she is in. If she can talk to you or if she will be okay. I cannot make promises that she will be able to come home safely. I don't know much more about her condition than you."

She took a deep breath and looked around at the four sets of eyes transfixed on her.

"I need you to prepare yourself. We are leaving the confines of Hogwarts, somewhere relatively untouched by war, and heading to what remains of Nurmengard Prison. I need you to prepare yourself for the battlefield of war."


	9. Friends

_**Chapter Nine**_

Poppy Pomfrey couldn't believe her eyes as they cautiously crossed the apparation lines. The space in front of the huge, run down and ugly stone prison was filled with military tents like the ones from the Defense textbooks and History of Magic classroom photographs.

There were groups of people on blankets on the newly cropped up grass, playing cards and chess, as Aurors and other Ministry dressed people ran around.

"Remember to stay calm and open," Professor Merrythought said as they walked through the rows of tents. Pomona slipped a hand into Poppy's.

"Who are all these people, Professor?"

The woman looked over at Xiomara with a grim smile. "Most are from the Ministry analyzing the leftover footprints and papers from the Blackcoats, just the ones not in Auroring uniforms are captives from Nurmengard."

Poppy felt a lump develop in the back of her throat as she walked past a group of men, some of which were missing limbs.

"There are so many."

"Professor Merrythought!"

They all turned to see the familiar auburn haired Transfiguration professor waving at them. Poppy smiled for the first time in months. Though he looked older and thinner, the man looked the same as she remembered; alive and colorful.

"Albus!"

The group drew close to him and he greeted them all warmly. "Can we see her?" Edward blurted out and Dumbledore chuckled.

"Of course," he said smoothly. "She's working with a handful of the Aurors in the tent over there, but I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see you all."

The four were giddy with excitement, but walked with their two professors to the large tent as calmly as they could. "Is there anything they should know before seeing Miss McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore?" Merrythought asked.

Dumbledore nodded slowly, looking at each of the students before speaking. "I do not mean to scare you, but if you are going to be there for Minerva, you need to do what's best for her and that's knowing how to help her. Minerva suffered extreme traumas during her months in Nurmengard, we may never know the extent of them, unless she tells us them. The healer says that she's suffering from a defensive psychological damage among her physical and internal injuries, leaving her with problems in speech."

"She can't talk?" Xiomara asked concerned.

Dumbledore hesitated, not sure how to explain it to children so young. "She can, but do not expect her to. Trauma can coped with in two way, you concede to the pain or you fight it. When Minerva fought it, her speech was a concession of the torture. We don't know how she will react, so just be cautious. The best thing we can do for her is show her love." He opened the flap and the group moved into the dimmed room.

Poppy caught sight of her first. The small, willow figure in the corner. She stood at a large table with a group of people that made her seem small like a child. As her eyes adjusted, she caught sight of the changes in her friend, how her slender form had shrunken to malnourished and cavernous, her pale skin now was white as a sheet, how she jumped at the slight noise and

She still looked like Minerva; her long dark hair braided in a complex elegant braided away from her face, her dark green intelligent eyes, her thin eyebrows, and high cheekbones, but she wasn't sure Minerva was in there anymore.

She was gesturing to pieces of paper, not speaking, but nodding and shaking her head decisively as those around her were hastily making notes when she abruptly looked up.

Her eyes met Poppy's and a smile broke out on her face. Poppy rushed around the table moving towards her friend, slowly only when she got to her. There was a second pause when Merrythought's and Dumbledore's instructions filtered through her head.

"Oh my god," she sobbed, gently pulling her best friend into her arms. "Merlin Minerva, I never thought I would see you again."

She didn't answer, but Minerva' arms tightened around Poppy's neck as tears poured down her face. "God, I missed you so much, Mina."

It seemed like years before they parted and Poppy grasped her hands to look her up and down. Then Minerva opened her mouth and surprised them all, "Hello Poppy."

Poppy chuckled and burst into tears, hugging her again. Tears were all around, running down the faces of both Professors and the others Aurors in the room, unashamed and unembarrassed at the happiness on the face of the girl that had all come to care for.

When Poppy finally released Minerva, Xiomara cautiously walked over to her roommate and gave her a quick hug before skittering back, as if afraid she would shatter from too long a touch.

"I'm so glad you're okay."

Pomona just took Minerva's hand and smiled widely with tear filled eyes, whispering to her as if that as more placating the younger Hufflepuff that the Gryffindor.

Edward was the last one, standing back near Merrythought and Dumbledore. "You won't hurt her, Potter," Albus prompted him gently and that was all that the Gryffindor needed to take the few steps forward and greet Minerva with a chaste peck on the cheek.

"Bout time you showed back up, McGonagall, the team's been tanking without you. The replacement Seeker can't catch a Snitch if he _Accioed_ it."

There was a moment of super silence and then everyone laughed. Minerva smiled quietly, eyes sparkling calming for the first time since she had been rescued.

"This is Melanie Ramirez and Kingsley Shacklebolt, two of the junior Aurors who helped liberate the prison. Melanie has been looking after Minerva and me," Professor Dumbledore said with a wink.

The women was blonde and pretty with a plain face and brown eyes. She stood in the shadows of the room, watching Minerva cautiously. "It's nice to meet you all," she said with a smile that seemed genuine.

"This is Poppy Pomfrey, Edward Potter, Xiomara Hooch, and Pomona Sprout. Then this is Galatea Merrythought, our Defense Professor."

"And former head of special Auroring operations," the young woman said with a smile and Professor Merrythought inclined her head.

After pleasantries, they migrated out to a blanket on the lawn near the forest's edge when the sunlight was warm. As Xiomara and Edward filled Minerva in on what happened in the nine months she had been gone, Poppy sat with Minerva, filling in details here and there, holding her hand tightly, as if she'd disappear all the while.

Pomona was quieter, but added in here and there, showing her the photographs they had brought.

"And everyone even pitched in and we made this little monument in Hogsemeade for you," Xiomara continued, "and we'd just go and sit there on the weekends, but then people from school and Hogsmeade began leaving notes and teddydragons and flowers and everything."

Minerva peered at the photograph to see what seemed to be her entire year crowded around a mirrored structure that captured the sunlight brilliantly. Roses, sunflowers, and little stuffed animals littered the ground around it. Minerva felt her throat swell shut and pin prick tears sting her eyes. If the others noticed they didn't remark on it.

"Oh yeah, we also brought you some stuff from your dorm that you might want," Xiomara said, pulling out a shrunken duffle bag from her pocket. She moved it from her palm to her blanket and pulled her wand out of her sleeve and raised her wand, then stopped short.

"What?" Poppy said an eyebrow raised.

"Err…I never could remember that stupid spell," Xiomara said sheepishly. Potter snorted and Xiomara smacked his thigh. "Shut up, Potter, we all know you don't know it."

Minerva moved then and the rest of them froze. She plucked Xiomara's wand from her hand and plopped back down on the blanket. With a flick of her friend's wand, the duffle was enlarged to its normal size.

Minerva looked up innocently at her friend and offered the wood back to her friend.

"Same old Minerva," Potter said with a smirk, shaking his head.

_*The Great War 1944*_

Galatea let Albus lead as they walked the perimeter of the makeshift camp. The February winds were chilly, but allowed for the grasses to begin to break through the ground and the trees to be defrosting. Albus was thinner than she remembered, older too, though she knew just how long it had been since he had left on his mission. His auburn beard was shorter and threaded with strands of grey now and his navy robes looked bigger than the last time she had seen him in them.

It was a while before she worked up the courage to speak.

"How is she, old friend?"

A cruel smile twisted on her friend's face. Before the argument that led up to Minerva's capture, she would have considered Albus one of her dearest friends, but now she was unsure of where they stood.

"Better than when we first got her out of there, but she relapsed earlier last week. When she chooses to speak, it only a handful of words, nothing of significance. I'm the only one who can convince her to eat. She's underweight, malnourished, and magically induced injuries refuse to heal properly. The Healer thinks it's some sort of speech disassociation."

Galatea's eyebrows contracted slightly. "That's rare in a girl, let alone a fifteen year old. But you said she is talking?"

"Yes, to certain people in one or two words. Two weeks ago, I managed to hold an entire conversation before she refused to say anything else. It's like she's here with me, but half of her is somewhere else and I'm unable to be there with her."

"It's difficult for you to protect her from the demons you can't see," Gatalea said gently. She remembered the horrors of captivity from her brief stint with the Aurors. Even being held for mere hours by the enemy was enough to rattle her for years following the day at twenty years old. To be fifteen and held captive for months, she couldn't imagine the turmoil the young woman was experiencing. "Better to have her with you than trying to drown herself in the bathtub when you're not looking."

Albus turned to look at her sharply and his hand brushed hers slightly in comfort. It was a moment before she spoke again.

"Albus, you have no idea how truly sorry I am that I caused her to run. I had no idea that it would cause her to go to Hogsmeade, let alone to run right into the Blackcoats. I should have waited to speak with her with you. I never thought it would cause this much pain. Please, Albus, forgive me."

She searched his face and bit her bottom lip as a series of expressions flashed; anger, hurt, pain, and then anger again, then perhaps understanding.

"You have no idea she would react as she did," he said and a flood of relief washed over the Defense Professor. "I don't know why she could ever be silly enough to leave the castle. She knew better. My only thought was she was overwhelmed and she needed to clear her head."

"Have you discussed the relationship with her?" Galatea asked gently.

Albus stopped abruptly and turned to face her. His eyes were dark with anger. "She was tortured for months Galatea, of course I haven't spoken to her about it. In my eyes, nothing's changed. There's not anything to discuss with her."

"She's a child, Albus!" Galatea said reproachfully. "And a student no less."

"Like you haven't looked after a student," Albus snapped back as the Defense Professor's face flamed red.

"But I never acted on it! Just think of what this could do to your reputation—to hers? The damages could never be fixed."

"A small price to pay for love."

Galatea growled in frustration. "Think of what's best for Minerva, Albus. You're not even giving her a chance at a future, at a chance to career."

"You never even thought of leaving us be, Galatea. Perhaps, she was safer before you interfered. Perhaps we were happy," he growled at her.

Galatea looked at him, taken aback at his tone. "This isn't some flailing, wild affair, is it, old friend? You love her."

"With everything."

_*The Great War 1944*_

"Why can't she come with us?" Potter said immediately, looking up at Merrythought with intent brown eyes. Minerva stood across from the Hogwarts lot, near the apparation line.

Galatea shared a look with Albus. "I'm afraid the Ministry is still keeping a lock and key on everyone, Mister Potter, but I'm sure Miss McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore will be back home soon." She looked towards Dumbledore who nodded.

"Sooner than you think," he added.

Potter frowned, but nodded. "I guess we'll see you soon, McGonagall." He pulled down affectionately on the end of her braid and Minerva's eyes smiled in response.

As rest of the goodbyes were exchanged, Galatea and Albus quietly conversed on the side as Pomona and Xiomara hugged Minerva and went to stand near Potter, leaving just Poppy with the girl.

"Don't cry, Poppy," Minerva said quietly as her friend hugged her tightly.

"I-I can't help-p it," she sniffled

She took a step back, wiping the tears across her cheeks with the back of her hand, the other hand holding one of Minerva's. "Promise me you'll come home in one piece? I can't stand not knowing anyone, Mina."

"I will try."

"All ready to go Miss Pomfrey?" Galatea said, walking back over with Dumbledore at her side. Poppy pouted, but nodded, not taking her eyes off her friend.

Professor Merrythought turned to face Minerva, hands nervous moving at her sides.

"I do believe I owe you a great apology, Miss McGonagall," Galatea said sincerely, sharing a slight look with Albus. Minerva blinked slightly suspicious and glanced up at Albus. "I may have jumped to conclusion that were initially not true of the extent of what I saw. I do believe I better understand now."

Minerva rewarded her with a smile and Albus put a hand on the small of her back at the group moved towards the apparation line, leaving the prison in a loud _pop_.

_*The Great War 1944*_

It was dark by the time Melanie had found Minerva's tent empty and the girl sitting on a rock a few feet into the forest line, wearing nothing but her night clothes. Immediately concerned, Melanie rushed towards her to find the fifteen year old sitting there motionless.

Drawing close, she slowed and approached her cautiously.

"Minerva?"

Melanie hesitated a moment before reaching out to touch her arm. The girl jerked away and the Auror caught sight of the photographs Poppy had brought in her hand. "Minerva, what's wrong?"

The raven hair girl turned to look at her, her green eyes red and puffy, hands quivering.

"I've missed everything."


	10. Goodbyes

_**Chapter Ten**_

She looked different, Melanie realized as she saw Minerva pacing outside the prison, in her own clothes and not the oversized male garments she had on when they first met.

She wore a long, emerald green pea coat with beautiful little brass buttons. Her boots were tall, reaching to just below her knees and tied up her shins, making her seem taller. She wore long dark pants underneath the jacket, though she couldn't tell the shirt underneath. Her hair was down and long around her face, her eyes still the most captivating feature about her.

"Think they had an affair?"

Both Melanie and Shacklebolt turned to look at their teammate with a less than impressed look. Parks smirked and shrugged slightly. The blonde headed, rag tag Auror always made everything a mess.

"I'm just sayin'. It's obvious there's something going on. I mean you've been him look at her. The touches, the little whispers in her ear. Mel you've been with the McGonagall girl this whole time, has she said anything else?"

"Leave the girl alone, Parks," Melanie answered sharply moving away from him and walking towards Minerva. The raven haired girl was running her fingers along the ragged, grey stones on the outside of the prison.

"What is she doing?" Kingsley asked quietly as they approached.

"Saying goodbye," Melanie replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Good morning, Minerva," Melanie greeted her cheerily with a smile. "Happy to be going home finally?"

Minerva's eyes were still fixed on the stones as she nodded. "Yes."

Melanie gave her a smile and waved at Dumbledore who was talking over near the side of the camp with the Healer. Since her visit from her friends, Minerva's mood had improve and her sentences had lengthened significantly.

"I finished the maps," she said, turning to look up at Kingsley, her large green eyes intently watching him.

"Excellent, I'm sure they'll prove helpful," he said charmingly with a smile. "Hello Professor."

"Mister Kinsley, Miss Ramirez," Albus greeted them. "Almost ready to go, Minerva? Alastor said he's just about ready with the apparation line if you and Auror Ramirez are ready?"

The auburn haired man smiled at her and Minerva's finger's danced against the stones again as she glanced back at the camp tents and the outlying forest. "Lewis left yesterday," she said, her voice soft and smooth like silk.

There was a pause and Melanie opened her mouth to reply, but Dumbledore beat her to the punch. "He needed to make amends with his wife and go home," Dumbledore said gently. "It was time for him to begin to heal, to move on."

Minerva's eyes found his face and the twinkling in his gaze seemed to settle her. "I think I am ready to leave now."

Dumbledore put a smile on his face and extended an arm, which she took without hesitation, not glancing back at the prison, but burying her face in Albus' robe.

_*The Great War 1944*_

When they landed in front of the open Hogwarts gates, the first thing Albus saw was Minerva kneeling in the grass, struggling to breath and Moody standing over her, looking at a loss of what to do.

"Take it easy lass, just breathe," Alastor was saying as Albus jolted towards her. "She must have been knocked loose in the apparation. We should have taken a porkey." He sounded guilty, though Albus wasn't sure why.

"It's already done. Minerva?" Albus said tentatively. Her green eyes moved to focus on him. "Can you say something for me?" She coughed and moved to stand wobbily. "It's all right, you're all right," Albus said, rubbing her back.

She nodded, breathing deeply. "'m okay."

"What happened?" Melanie said, rushing towards them from the bushes behind them.

"Nothing," Moody said shortly, walking down towards the path. "Let's keep it moving you lot. I don't wanna be caught outside in this bloody cold." The snow was beginning to pile up in the much colder Scotland.

As the four walked up the barely paved path towards the castle, Minerva stopped abruptly, Albus almost knocking into Alastor. "What is it?" he asked quickly, his blue eyes searching her for injury.

"Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

She turned to face him, her green eyes wide and alight. "I want to take my O.W.L.S.," she said seriously.

Albus blinked once, shocked, then chuckled. Loudly.

"Do not laugh at me, Albus Dumbledore," she snapped with a fiercely.

The laughing immediately ceased and the rest of the party stared at her wide eyed. The falling snow caught in her hair and eyelashes, making her look even more ashen, as if she too was a part of the landscape.

"You, my dear, are a marvel," he said shaking his head, and putting an arm around her waist, pulling her close, "let's get you inside before you freeze to death."

The trek to the castle was quick but cold, Moody grumbling the entire time back his bad leg and the openness of their position for enemy fire. They were greet at the front gates by the Headmaster in his customary tipping black hat.

"Miss McGonagall, it's truly wonderful to see you," Dippet said, taking her hand with a cheerful smile. Minerva gave him a half smile, but didn't say anything. "Albus, ol boy."

"Good to see you Armando. You know Alastor Moody, this is Melanie Ramirez, she's been on Miss McGonagall's guard," Albus introduced with polite smiles.

"A pleasure," he said, shaking her hand with a smile. "Shall we go inside? I'm afraid it's still a bit chilly here compared to Germany."

The group moved back inside where they were greeted by Professor Merrythought and Slughorn, both who didn't hesitate to greet her warmly. "Now, we tried to stem your welcoming party, but despite our best efforts, I'm afraid quite a large amount of people refused to go back to their common rooms—"

"MINERVA!"

The party of friend, Edward, Xiomara, Pomona, and Poppy, were joined with a handful of others. Minerva jumped slightly at the noise, but smiled quietly none the less.

Poppy embraced her first, kissing her fiercely on both cheeks. "You look better," she declared matter-of-factly. "How do you feel?" Before she could answer, the rest of the people caught up to Poppy and greeted Minerva.

Her cheeks were pink from the sudden warmth of the castle and the overwhelming number of people. She stepped back a little towards Melanie and Albus.

"Can she come to the common room?" Edward asked quickly, looking up at Dumbledore, "Everyone's waiting up to see her."

Albus paused for a moment, his eyes meeting Minerva's before nodded. "Not too much excitement now, Mister Potter," he called after them as Poppy took Minerva's hand.

"Don't worry, I'll watch her," Melanie said, moving quickly to follow the chattering party.

"It's so good to have the two of you back, Albus," Slughorn said with a smile. Even from the few feet away, Albus could smell his familiar scent of Potion cork rubber and old butterbeer. "It's been a hell of a year without you here."

Albus gave him a strained smile as he watched Minerva's form down the hallway. "Actually I think we ought to speak in Armando's office."

_*The Great War 1944*_

"You cannot be serious!"

"Galatea, calm down."

"You cannot expect that child to be able to withstand that kind of trauma and then go straight out into another battlefield! You're setting her up for a break, Albus Dumbledore and I refuse to let you do it to her!"

Galatea continued to angrily pace the office as the three men sat around the crackling fire in the sitting room.

"This is something she wants," Albus said slowly, "I don't want to take her back into the war, but …"

"Is she even recovered enough to go back to Germany and the warzone so quickly?" Slughorn asked, taking a large sip of scotch.

"The Healer says the critical injuries are mainly healed, but they're linked with her magic and when her progress is damaged and set back, so is her body."

Galatea growled in frustration, a few hairs coming loose from her tight knots of a bun. "You have no idea what this girl needs. If you did, you wouldn't even consider taking her back to the war."

"And you do?" Albus shouted, "Minerva is not you, Galatea. She's not going to try and slice her wrists or drown herself in a bathtub. She's stronger than you. You don't know what she needs."

The Defense Professor's glare was fierce.

"She is not your wife, Albus, no matter how far your little affair goes on. She's in no state of help to anyone," she hissed.

There was dead silence.

"Of no use? The Auroring Department seems to have a different opinion," Albus snapped smugly.

"Perhaps it should be her decision," Armando said diplomatically, eyes flickering from his two best professor and their cat fight. "Minerva is sixteen, going to be seventeen. She's seen and experienced more than any adult should have to. She should have the right to make her own choices. Enough freedom has already been taken from that child."

A silence invaded the room, interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. "Excuse me," Melanie said tentatively peeking her head around the corner of the door.

"Miss Ramirez, what is it?" Albus said, turning towards her.

"Minerva isn't here with you, is she?"

Albus' eyebrows puckered. "She isn't with you?"

There was a pause. "Er, no sir."

"You mean you've lost her?"


	11. Snow

_**Chapter Eleven**_

The Gryffindor common room was blaring with music from a levitating phonograph and loud conversation. The lights were dimmed and floating candles set the scene for alluring shadowing of dancing couples and snogging partners.

"And you think this is the best place for her to be, Professor Merrythought?" Albus snapped as they entered the room via the portrait.

Gatalea glared, but didn't respond, cutting through the crowds of students who made way for her without a sound, many not even noticing her presence.

"Potter!" Dumbledore called out, catching sight of him with Xiomara and a group of other Fifth Years. The messily haired boy immediately got up from the corner and came to the teachers.

"Professor, is everything okay? Is Minerva with you?" he asked, looking behind him to only find Melanie and Moody.

"She's not in here?"

Xiomara shook her head, lights flickering off her spiky hair. "She went out for some air. I think she didn't like all the people. She said she'd be right back."

"When was that?" Albus' voice border lined on urgent.

"Maybe an hour ago…"

Without another word, he turned back to the others. "We need to find her. There are three courtyards on the third floor."

"I remember them well. Ramirez, you stay with Dumbledore," Moody said shortly, moving out the portrait hole and down the corridor within seconds. "Constant vigilance," he called behind him.

"How can we help?" Potter asked, his eyes wide and earnest.

"She went towards the South Greenhouses," Galatea called over the music as she scurried over to them. "Someone said she looked like she was alone. Last time anyone saw her was twenty minutes ago."

Dumbledore nodded and tried to calm his rushing heart. He turned to the anxious Gryffindors. "Stay here and keep everything going. As far as anyone knows, nothing's wrong. Minerva just went out for some air."

"I told you not to plan a party, Xio," he heard faintly as they rushed towards the Southern Greenhouses.

"Take a breath, Albus, I'm sure she's fine," Merrythought was saying, struggling to keep up with the Transfiguration professor's pace as he caught sight of a familiar face.

"Riddle!" Albus bellowed at the trailing robe of Slytherin. The tall, dark boy stopped on the staircase and turned back to look at the professor with a mix of arrogance, dislike, and annoyance.

"Professor Dumbledore, you're returned," Tom Riddle said in a false politeness that Albus had always hated. "How wonderful."

"Did you see Minerva McGonagall come this way?"

"Yes, sir."

The pale skinned and dark hair boy smiled charmingly.

"Did you notice which way she was heading?" he forced his tone to remain polite.

"She said she was—"

"She talked to you?" Albus' voice was ludicrous.

"Why wouldn't she, _sir_? Minerva and I have always been friendly despite other relationship advice she's been given," Riddle responded said icily.

"Which way did she go, Riddle?" Merrythought interrupted the staring contest crossly.

"Towards Hogsmeade, though I told her she should go back to her dorms and get her cloak. She's rather a little thing to be out there without a jacket. We wouldn't want her to catch a cold."

_*The Great War 1944*_

Aberforth Dumbledore was closing up his shop, wiping down the bar when he caught sight of it. Just outside was the tiniest little kitten he had seen since had a been a lad. Puzzled, he threw his dirty rag onto the countertop and moved towards the doors.

"Hello there, Ears."

The kitten small, almost unhealthily so, he noticed, with peculiar tabby markings in her silver fur. The small tuffs of fur near her velvet ears twitched slightly at the sound of his voice. However, there was just something _else_ about this cat.

"Let me go and get you something to drink? It's my job every other day of the week, why don't today, hmm?"

The kitten didn't move, but seemed to be staring at the monument towering in front of it. "Ah," he said with a sigh. "That was for a girl at the school up yonder. Little pretty thing that got taken as war goods. Her friends were heartbroken I think and wanted to do something for her. Heard she was a pretty special kid." He bent down to brush a little bit of the snow off the kitten's head.

"Let me get ya some milk, hmm? It's too cold for a little thing like you to be outside."

He turned back towards his bar and shook his head, snowflakes tangling in his beard. "Look at ya, Abe, talking to a damn kitten. You've done lost your marbles," he grumbled, moving inside to get the milk, but before he made it, there was a gentle pop. He whipped around, wand raised high in the air, expecting a Blackcoat, but instead found a girl.

"You're not as crazy as you think."

Aberforth lowered his wand hesitantly.

She didn't look like a threat, in fact she didn't look like much at all. Pretty, beautiful even, if she didn't look like she was sick. She was pale and thin, almost too thin, dressed in just a thin sweater over her undershirt. Her dark curls caught the snowflakes and seemed to make her glow.

"Where'd you come from? Students are supposed to be down here," he snapped, looking around. The girl didn't seemed phased. She hadn't even moved since he had turned, still standing near the glass monument, her eyes coursing over the monument and the snow ridden letters and now frozen flowers and tiny tokens.

He opened his mouth to speak again, when the realization struck him that the kitten was gone. "You're Albus' student. The Animagus." He swallowed and gestured towards the monument. "This is all for you."

The girl didn't answer, she didn't even look as if she heard him.

"Come on inside," he said, nodding towards his bar, and reaching out to touch her arm. There was a crackle of wild magic that burned his wrist as he immediately jumped back. The snow evaporated with a cloud of steam. The girl blinked slowly as if she was still asleep and turned back towards the monument and the snow.

Aberforth hesitated, memories of his sister flooding through his head. He took a deep breath and tried again. "Minerva?" he said smoothly. "Minerva, let's get inside. It's too cold to be here, okay?"

As his words filtered through she nodded. "I'm..." she frowned defensively. "I don't think I'm supposed to be here."

Aberforth let go of the breath he didn't know he was holding. "It's all right, let's go inside and find Albus, shall we?" He was surprised when the girl, clearly shell shocked, allowed him to lead her inside the bar.

Her skin was ice cold to the touch. He closed the doors behind him with a wave of his wand and easily popped her up on the bar top. "Err, just stay there."

With a snap of his wand the washcloth was transformed into a thick blanket and he slowly wrapped around her shoulders, catching sight of the deep, just beginning to scar over wounds on her forearms and shoulders as she wrapped the blanket tighter around her.

He felt the bile at the back of his throat grow and pieces from articles on war camps in Germany rise to the forefront of his mind. With another wave of his wand, he sent a half crumpled piece of parchment towards the castle with a hastily scrawled note reading:

"_I think I've found something that belongs to you. _

–_Abe"_

"My brother talks about you, you know?" he said gently, turning back towards the girl who was watching him with large intelligent eyes. "I think he's a little in love with you."

"Perhaps, I am a little in love with him."

Aberforth raised an eyebrow at the reply, but didn't comment on it. "That's good, I suppose. My brother always did need a little good something in his life."

"He didn't mean to hurt her."

His heart stopped short for a second and he forced himself to take a shaky breath before responding. "Albus told you about our sister?" Aberforth kept his tone surprised, but calm. He kept the steady motion of wiping; the sense of motion that always soothed Arianna.

"Yes."

"Hmm." He didn't otherwise, but kept wiping and tidying up the bar.

Aberforth chuckled drily sudden, a sudden thought dawning on him. The girl turned to look at him, eyes asking a question she didn't have to. "It's just…my brother was always a ladies man. I mean, pretty boy, smart, all that you know. But you…he did storm a prison for you, little Miss. Perhaps, you're the one to turn my brother around."

Minerva looked at him, head tilted sideways for a moment before opening her mouth to reply. The store's jingling bell cut her response off. "MINERVA!" Albus rushed inside with a host of others behind him. Minerva slid off the counter and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Merlin, Minerva, you frightened me," he said into her hair.

The others couldn't hear her response. But no one, not even Professor Merrythought commented on the intimate gesture.

As he carefully set her down again on the ground, he turned towards Aberforth who was awkwardly folding and refolding his rag. With a moment's silence, Albus stuck out his hand. An eyebrow raised, Aberforth took it. "Thank you for looking out for her."

Aberforth nodded once sharply. "She's not like the others ones, is she brother?"

"I wouldn't know what you mean."

"She's only sixteen, Albus."

"No, brother, she's far older," Albus said quietly, rubbing his face with his hands warily.

"You need to look out for her," Aberforth hesitated, watching Minerva interact Melanie and Moody. "She reminds me of Arianna." Albus winced slightly at the mention of her name. "Don't mess this one up."


	12. Beginnings

_**Chapter Twelve**_

They returned to the castle via porkey and they were welcomed back into the entrance hall where they found a group of black clad Aurors standing at attention behind Professor Dippet. "Lads, what's happened?" Alastor Moody asked immediately, limping towards them. Melanie came to rest beside Minerva, listening to the man that seemed to be in charge of the group.

"General Robards sent us, sir, looking for Professor Dumbledore," the man said, holding up a sealed scroll. "He didn't trust owls to deliver this."

Albus stepped out from next to Galatea and Minerva. "I'm Dumbledore," he said taking the message and opening it. His eyes scanned the first few lines of the letter before he looked up, his eyes meeting Minerva's immediately.

"What's wrong, Albus?" Galatea asked urgently.

Albus cleared his throat. "The Hit Squads believe they may have found the location housing Grindelwald and his associates." A shiver went through the group.

"And they want you to fight?" Albus inclined his head slightly and folded the letter in half.

Minerva nodded and Albus blinked once, turning towards the group of Aurors. "You may inform General Robards that I am willing to be of assistance. We can leave within the hour."

The Aurors scattered and Alastor quickly followed them, engaging in a hushed conversation between Dippet and the commander of the squad.

"Albus!" Galatea snapped, putting a hand on his arm. Albus shook it off.

"This is not up for discussion, Galatea, I know you do not respect my decision, but it is just that. My decision."

"It should be _her_ decision," Galatea shot off hotly with a glare.

"It always was."

_*The Great War 1944*_

"I am accompanying Dumbledore to Germany," Moody said shortly as Melanie made it outside on the ground. "Your orders have come back from headquarters and I put in my recommendation for your immediate rank change." A flitter of excitement shot down her spine.

"Thank you, sir." Moody's glare made her blush and immediately correct, "err—Moody."

"You'll be briefed back at the Ministry," he continued, "you did a bang up job, Ramierez. Not many could have done what you did with McGonagall. You were able to convince her that the bravest thing to do was live and to tell you how to let others live. For that, the whole world should be thankful."

Before she could respond, the scarred warrior had stalked across the garden and thrown his aging, battered body into one of the thestral drawn carriages.

She blinked a few times, adjusting to the abrupt departure and turned back to the road where Dumbledore was loading up the carriage with a trunk and bags. Minerva stood near the curb, dressed in a long cloak and gloves, the snow reflecting off her hair.

"You're leaving with Dumbledore?" Melanie said softly as she approached. Minerva didn't look over at her, but continued watching her lover interact with the thestral and those around the carriage.

"Yes."

Melanie swallowed once before asking the question weighing on her mind. "Are you sure that's wise?"

A small smile flickered on the girl's lips.

"Yes."

Melanie raised an eyebrow, but if she was going to object, she was interrupted by the arrival of Dumbledore. "I suppose this is a farewell, Miss Ramirez," he said cordially.

"Yes sir," she said with a smile.

"Will you be returning to Germany?" he asked politely, wrapping an arm around Minerva's waist, his eyes not leaving Melanie's face.

"I'm being briefed back at the Ministry for my next assignment in the coming week, so I'm not sure where I will heading after that," she responded.

"Ah, the excitement of the next thing in life," he said, blue eyes twinkling. He offered her a hand, which she took. However instead of shaking it, the man drew her close. "I believe I owe you a debt, Miss Ramirez, for helping rescue Minerva. One that perhaps I will never truly be able to repay to you," he released her, "we need more soldier like you, Auror."

He smiled at her and moved back towards the carriage. "We are ready when you are, Minerva, my dear."

The raven haired girl turned back to Melanie, her intelligent green eyes sparkling with something Melanie hadn't seen from her before. She wasn't sure she could identify it, even on herself. A goodbye the Auror had prepare failed to come to mind and her tongue felt heavy like lead in her mouth.

For once, it was Melanie who was speechless, but Minerva was not.

"Thank you."


End file.
